


Caged

by SuperWhoLockianFangirl



Series: Conversations with a Cannibal [2]
Category: Criminal Minds, Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Awkwardly nervous Reid, Creepy Hannibal, Gen, Hannibal Being Hannibal, Slight hints of Will/Hannibal, mentions of cannibalism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-29
Updated: 2013-05-29
Packaged: 2017-12-13 08:29:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/822196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuperWhoLockianFangirl/pseuds/SuperWhoLockianFangirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spencer goes back to speak with Dr. Lecter again and Hannibal continues to be intrigued by the young genius. He can hardly wait to peel back every layer of who Spencer Reid is to find out what lies at his heart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Caged

**Author's Note:**

> I can't believe I wrote another one of these so fast. I couldn't sleep, so I wrote instead, so I suppose I owe this one to insomnia.

“Are you religious, Spencer?” Hannibal asked, eyeing the younger man with the same hungry look as the day they’d met. Spencer was wearing a grey shirt this time, under a thick cardigan that made him look very much like a teacher. In fact, if it hadn’t been for the holster – empty at the moment – Hannibal may very well have assumed he was one.

It had been more than a month since the first time Hannibal had laid eyes on the agent. Spencer had been back to interview him twice and he was starting to enjoy their talks, though Hannibal was certain he was leaning more about Spencer than Spencer was about him.

It wasn’t as easy as it would have been under normal circumstances to dissect Spencer Reid. He was, after all, in a cage and Spencer was an FBI agent. He didn’t trust Hannibal at all and knew the man’s games fairly well.

His lips pressed together tightly and Hannibal smiled at the action. Spencer had an emotive mouth, just as he had emotive eyes and hands. Everything about the young man screamed emotion – he was a flashing beacon of _feeling_. And such a bright, delicious mind full of fear and plagued by demons he tried to hide.

Hannibal had yet to pry out many of Spencer’s secrets, but he could see them lurking there over his shoulder and he knew in time he would have Spencer’s heart for his own just like he had his dear Will’s heart.

“Are _you_ religious, Dr. Lecter?”

Hannibal smiled when Spencer turned the question back on him. That was expected, a defensive attempt to avoid giving him any personal information.

“I believe I posed the question to you first, Spencer,” Hannibal chided gently and Spencer sighed, looking down at the floor. He’d taken to doing that often and it allowed Hannibal to study him without him fidgeting uncomfortably.

He was so full of fear and yet, paradoxically, so full of boldness. A strange combination of awkward vulnerability and impenetrable strength.

“No,” he answered, looking up again. “There is no scientific proof to support the idea of a Creator God and there are too many variables involved in theology and theological debates. It’s impossible to prove the existence of God.”

“And you don’t believe anything without hard proof,” Hannibal nodded, “I thought as much.”

“Then why ask?”

“Because I was curious to know your answer,” Hannibal said, “Has anyone ever told you that you are fascinating?”

“I’m here to talk about you, Doctor,” Reid’s voice was steady, the faint tremor Hannibal had detected during their first meeting long gone. He’d grown more confident after his last couple of visits. It was intriguing.

“I find talking about myself to be very tedious,” Hannibal said, “I would much rather discuss you. For instance, would you like to tell me about your father?”

Reid tensed for a second and there was another flash of that beautiful pain in his hazel eyes. Hannibal grinned and inhaled deeply, the smell of Spencer’s nervousness and slight fear wafting in through the holes in the glass.

He hid the discomfort better than expected, anger flaring up before fear could overtake him. Hannibal couldn’t decide whether he preferred the anger or the fear. They were both so interesting.

“Would you tell me about yours?”

“He’s dead,”

Reid very nearly rolled his eyes, but kept himself from doing so and instead nodded slowly. “Of course. My father’s not dead.”

That was all he said and Hannibal wondered how much he would have to push him to get his entire life story. He had all the time in the world to try, after all.

“You are not fond of your father,” it wasn’t a question. Reid didn’t answer.

He stared at Hannibal for a long moment and Hannibal wondered if he would leave again. The past two ‘sessions’ had ended with Spencer getting frustrated and leaving, but promising to be back later.

“Why did you start killing people?”

Hannibal sighed. They were back to the interrogation again, apparently. “I believe you’ve asked me that same question twice now, Spencer and each time I’ve declined to answer.”

A brief flash of a smile and Hannibal wanted nothing more than to know what those lips tasted like.

“You never know, Doctor,” Spencer said, “maybe you’ll decide to answer eventually.”

“Perhaps I will…” Hannibal mused. It was unlikely, if not entirely impossible. Hannibal did not have any interest in sharing his mind with the FBI and he would not do so for anyone, no matter how intriguing. “I very much doubt it though.”

Spencer seemed to agree, but continued doggedly on his line of questioning anyway. Hannibal had to admire the boy’s determination, if nothing else.

“What about the cannibalism?” he asked, “When did that start?”

Hannibal’s smile was much more animalistic this time, revealing the faintest flash of sharp, white teeth. Spencer shivered unconsciously at the feral grin, but otherwise didn’t seem to react at all.

After a long silence that seemed to hang thickly in the air, Spencer huffed. “Why are you talking to me?” he asked.

“I thought I’d made the answer to that question abundantly clear already,”

Spencer frowned at him, the edges of his mouth turning down as frustration eked out of those bright, hazel eyes.

“If you aren’t going to tell me anything about your crimes, it seems pointless for me to be here or for you to even speak to me.”

Hannibal nodded, “Then why do you keep finding yourself back here, do you think?”

He knew the answer as well as Spencer. Hannibal wasn’t the only one intrigued. Spencer Reid was a man who liked to solve riddles and Hannibal Lecter was a riddle that was impossible to solve. His curiosity would ultimately be his downfall.

“As you said, Spencer,” Hannibal continued, “perhaps one day I will decide to answer your questions.”

Spencer inclined his head slowly and then went quickly to the next question.

“Do you think you’re capable of love?”

It was asked in a softer voice than the other questions, somewhat timid and a little bit awkward. Before Hannibal could answer, however, Spencer continued, clarifying,

“I don’t mean sexual attraction,” he said, “I mean love. Caring for another person beyond yourself and your own means of survival. Beyond them being a pawn in a game that you’re playing or one of the people you consider pigs that you murdered.”

Hannibal thought about that for a long moment, “My, aren’t we getting ahead of ourselves, Spencer? This is only our fourth date. A bit soon to speak of love.”

The young man’s face flushed scarlet and Hannibal inhaled sharply at the beautiful sight. His pale skin looked positively gorgeous with the blood pooling, hot and pink in his gaunt cheeks. He could almost feel the warmth radiating off of him.

“You know that question is on the questionnaire,”

He nodded, “Yes, but you’ve hardly been following the questionnaire, have you? You don’t even really need it.”

“You haven’t answer my question,”

Hannibal sighed at the deflection, but slowly nodded his head.

“If you’re asking if I believe I am capable of love, my answer is yes. I have loved before, other people. I have cared for another without having any ulterior motives.”

“Who?”

Hannibal smiled, but the smile seemed a bit sad and he shook his head, “That is hardly important.”

Spencer frowned and Hannibal could almost hear his frustration. He’d finally gotten Hannibal to answer a question and had then been shut out on the follow-up. He could imagine quite well how the young man must feel.

Hannibal’s eyes were ravenous as he leaned forward, staring at Spencer as if he could pierce his very soul with just one gaze.

“What about you, Spencer? Have you ever been in love?”

Spencer flushed again, fumbling a bit as he awkwardly stumbled over his response, shaking his head quickly.

“That’s not – We’re not discussing me, Dr. Lecter,”

“I’d much rather discuss you,” Hannibal said, “As I told you: you are fascinating.”

“What you want to discuss isn’t really important though,” Spencer said, “We’re not talking about me. I’m not the one in a cage.”

The words were meant to be biting, but they came out lilted just a bit too high and Spencer’s anxiousness showed through in his twitching hands and wide eyes. Hannibal smiled as he studied him, catching his eyes and not letting him look away.

“Are you absolutely certain of that, Spencer?”

  
********

* * *

**-end-**  


**Author's Note:**

> I'm sure there will be more oneshots following this. Mostly just Hannibal and Spencer having conversations while Hannibal pries into Spencer's mind and Spencer tries (and fails) to learn more about Hannibal. 
> 
> As always, all mistakes are my own. All thoughts and critiques are welcome! Thanks to everyone who left kudos and comments on "Doomed From the Start"! I appreciate it!


End file.
